


Secrets

by countrygirlsfun



Series: Stiles is a Badass [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, F/M, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/countrygirlsfun/pseuds/countrygirlsfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek hates secrets. Stiles has one nobody knows about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secrets

At this point the pack had brought there lives down to a state of organized chaos. At the very least they didn't have any big threats they had to deal with. Just small changes and threats here and there. Stiles really didn’t like change; his overactive mind needed a routine to stick to. But he's gotten used to the fact that it’s going to happen when you hang out with werewolves. The pack had created a routine that they tried to follow to give their lives some sense of normalcy.

One night Derek and Isaac were on patrol when they were suddenly ambushed by four werecoyotes. They fought well but Derek would have a handle of his two Isaac would be pinned by the others. Or three would be tearing at Derek and Isaac would have to let his go to help his alpha. Scott was off with Allison and Erica and Boyd were God knows where doing whatever they did together.

Then it happened. One of the coyotes just suddenly dropped to the forest floor. Then another. Derek and Isaac used that moment of confusion to get the upper hand on the remaining two. The coyotes retreated towards the edge of the pack’s domain. The two panicking coyotes helped the two who had been mysteriously shot.

Derek wheeled around; he searched the forest for the source of the shots. All he saw was the movement of the wind through the forest. Even with his heightened hearing he hadn’t heard the sound of the shot. He didn’t have the faintest idea of where to look for the shooter. They chased the coyotes until Derek was satisfied they wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon. Then he and Isaac returned to the spot where the fight took place.

“You go south and west, I’ll go north and east, whoever was out there has to have left a scent somewhere,” Derek ordered the beta. They spent the rest of the evening trying to sniff out the shooter, but to no avail. The only thing they found was a faint scent of gunpowder next to a tall oak tree.

Time passed and other skirmishes and small fights happened. They all involved different monsters or problems but there was a single commonality: if things got dicey in the fight, help always came from a perfectly timed and perfectly placed shot from somewhere nearby. There was never any scent left even remotely close by after the fights were over.

Then a big fight came. Everyone was there and everyone was struggling. Derek’s opponent stood up to deliver the final blow to the alpha. But right as he lunged forward he stopped short. Confused the creature stumbled backward and fell. It was enough to turn the tide in the fight. After it was all over the pack searched for their mysterious shooter. This time they found a 20 yard trail of broken twigs and smashed grass leading away from the tree with gunpowder residue.

Derek was beyond frustrated, hating that there's secrets surrounding his pack, hating that he doesn't know something.

“It’s like it’s a friggin ghost.”

“Guardian angel is more like it,” Isaac mumbled.

Even with the trail they’d found, it wasn’t enough to track where the person was going. That night ended with even more frustration than before. Derek couldn’t believe somebody could move through the forest and only leave those small tracks. Even he couldn’t do that as an alpha. They could always move silently but no matter what there was always a scent to follow. Why- how there was absolutely no trail to follow, was unfathomable.

The pack on the other hand was just glad for the help. Isaac was always the one to find the gunpowder residue. Scott had been the one to notice the trail tonight. Nobody had any suspicion of who their secret helper was. They didn’t have anything to go off of in order to form any suspicion so it wasn’t worth the effort. They weren’t going to be the ones to solve the unsolvable.

Derek wouldn’t let it go. The next few days he was even surlier than his usual self. He came out of his room in the warehouse to find the pack all there. Even Stiles and Lydia were hanging out there today. Scott and Isaac were wrestling while the rest just talked. Erica was filling Lydia and Stiles in on the last fight and the details of the mysterious helper.

“You guys seriously do have a guardian angel looking out for you,” Stiles agreed with Isaac’s assumption.

Derek just got even more pissed the more he heard about it. His betas could feel anger radiating from Derek so they tried to drop the subject for the next few days. It took two more fights with those damn helpful shots before Derek finally thought his plan was worth trying.

Stiles got home from lacrosse practice feeling particularly sore. Scott and Isaac were mad at each other for yet another unknown reason and Stiles had gotten between them before the rest of the team noticed anything. But breaking up a werewolf fight isn’t all that easy for a human. On the one hand it was good he’d taken a few too many hits to the ribs from his teammates so when he limped off the field following the hits from his pack members it wasn’t too surprising. But he was annoyed and sore and he just wanted to crash. He slowly made his way upstairs, threw his backpack by his desk and flopped down on his bed.

“You smell.”

Stiles jumped up sending a shock of pain through his ribcage and his back.

“AHH, really?! That’s how you’re going to announce your presence and scare the shit out of me?”

“Well you do, different than normal though.”

“Oh and what’s different, grumpy?” Stiles asked as he laid back down. _Why the hell is Derek in my bedroom?_

“I think its, pain?”

Stiles just sighed and lifted his jersey to show him the still forming bruises that covered his torso. “You’re lovely betas were fighting again. Somebody had to stop them.”

Derek felt bad, not that his face showed it. “I should have those two under control better. They shouldn’t fight at school too risky they’d change in front of people.”

“Huh,” Stiles huffed. “Yeah that happened. Why do you think I had to do something?”

“How the hell did you get them to stop?”

“If you break their eye contact and yell in their face loud enough they stop and either back off or go after the new threat. Unfortunately, Scott’s attention shifted to me instead of breaking completely.”

See he _always fucking knew_. “Scott? Did this? To _you_?”

“Just drop it dude, why are you even here?”

“Well now two reasons. One I have a job for my resident research expert. Look, you figure everything out. I can’t fathom what is actually happening so why not have you try and figure it out.”

“Wow, Derek Hale is asking for my help? Are there pigs flying somewhere? Has hell frozen over?”

Derek rolled his eyes Stiles. _Seriously why did he always have to talk like this?_

“Anyway, I need your help. The ghost who’s been helping us. I want to know how its possible.”

“So you want me to research what mystical and/or supernatural being can fire a gun and then not be seen or heard or leave a trail.”

“No I want you to research what kind of _human_ can do it. If it was some creature I’d have a sense of it being nearby.”

“So your spidey senses aren’t tingling so you want me to do the dirty work? Fine, it helps the pack, right?”

Stiles really didn’t mind. Things had been quiet recently and Stiles was getting bored of only being used as a punching bag. But this was going to be tricky.

“Thanks.” Derek was surprised that was all the coaxing it took to get him to agree.

“And the second thing?”

“What?”

“You said you had two reasons.”

“Oh, uh just don’t, don’t move.”

“Excuse me?” Stiles nearly choked, sitting up with his legs over the side of the bed.

Derek walked over and stood his legs right against Stiles’. He leaned down to look him in the eyes before he softly grabbed his ribcage. Confusion and relief washed over Stiles face as Derek took some of the pain away. Stiles closed his eyes as he felt the pain leave his body. When he opened them Derek was gone.

Stiles didn’t really know why he was keeping this secret from his pack. Well, yes he did. He was ok just being the puny human in the group. He tried keeping up the appearance of being content with just doing research and being the one to figure everything, and I do mean everything, else out. He wasn’t going to try and battle Derek for being the biggest threat in the pack. He wasn’t going to challenge Derek to anything; he really, REALLY didn’t want his throat ripped out by Derek’s teeth.

He knew he had garnered his compassion from his mother, and his observational skills from his dad. Growing up he was bubbly and silly and was liked by his classmates. He was the class clown and he loved being the center of attention.

Then everything changed. His world caved in on itself. He lost his mom and he felt responsible. The hole he felt inside pulled him inside his head. He withdrew from all those childhood friends and completely shut himself off from the rest of the world around him. His panic attacks were ever more frequent and slowly he became the quiet kid always in the back of the room that nobody noticed and nobody missed.

Sheriff Stilinski had to do something. He’d already lost his wife he couldn’t lose his son to anxiety right after. He kept Stiles close, taking him everywhere he could or leaving him at the station with an officer to watch over him. Time passed but Stiles’ anxiety stuck with him.

Then one day while he was out with his dad, the Sheriff had drawn his gun suddenly. Before Stiles knew what had happened the criminal was on the ground, bleeding from his leg, John standing over him preventing the man from crawling away and calling in for a deputy to come help. Stiles had looked on in awe. That night at supper, a usually silent event, he quietly asked his dad a question.

“Can you teach me that?”

“Teach you what Stiles?”

“To shoot? You knew where to shoot, and that he was coming after us and, and- how did you know that? Can you teach me that?”

“Stiles, most of it is experience, I can’t teach that.” But at the crestfallen look on his son’s face he added, “But I can try, we can start with just basics. See if you want to learn more.”

Stiles brightened and he returned to his meal.

That weekend papa Stilinski took Stiles into the back yard to start his lessons. “Ok, Stiles, rule number one. Always respect a weapon. How you do that are the rest of the rules. Rule number two: always assume it’s loaded and act accordingly.” The young teenager was practically bouncing with excitement at this point. “Rule number three: always have control of what the muzzle is pointed at. And rule number four: don’t put your finger on the trigger until you are ready to shoot.”

The sheriff hesitated, but his son looked so excited he couldn’t help but continue.

“Ok Stiles, now breathe in, and out.”

His father calmed him before handing him the small revolver. “Now you’re aiming for the apples out there. Don’t feel bad if you miss a couple times. You’ve never done this before.”

Stiles felt the cool metal in his hand, his heart rate rose. His panic was rising, “what if I do it wrong, what if I hurt someone” before the panic took over though he heard his dad again.

“Breathe in Stiles, breathe out Stiles.”

Two deep breaths later he opened his eyes calm and ready. “Can I try it now?”

“Yeah just one more thing.”

Stiles felt his dad put something over his ears and the whole world faded away. Stiles raised the weapon, aimed at the fruit across the yard. He thought he could shoot a piece of fruit, it wasn’t like it was a person or something and the only thing behind it was the forest. Nobody could get hurt. He aimed, closed his eyes, held his breath and pulled the trigger.

He opened one eye to see his dad chuckling. Stiles lifted the ear muff off one ear.

“What?”

“You wanna try keeping your eyes open this time?”

Hmph. Stiles aimed again, steadied the gun with his free hand, took a deep breath in and shot. The apple exploded. Stiles smiled, aimed again. Poof. Poof. Poof. All the apples were gone. He lowered the revolver.

“How’s that dad?”

“Uh, that was good Stiles.”

John was suprised by just how good it was and just stood staring at his son. He’d heard of beginners luck but that was unheard of. 5 shots, 4 apples. Hope began to flicker inside him that maybe something good would come of this. Supper that night was full of chatter as they planned out what Stiles would learn next.

With Stiles working on the mystery, Derek had put the shooter out of his mind. Things had been peaceful so he finally decided maybe working on pack dynamics wasn’t a bad idea. On a particularly calm night they all decided to have a movie night at the loft. They reduced the patrols since things had been so calm so only Isaac was out on patrol. Everybody was there in the loft except Isaac and Stiles.

Derek attributed it to research or homework or whatever the kid did with his own time. He sighed. He was going to have to include Stiles in the whole “get to know your pack” process. Even though he, Lydia, and Allison weren’t werewolves they were still pack.

Isaac ran along his track. Nothing had happened and he wasn’t anticipating anything would happen. He shifted back to human form and sat on a fallen tree just observing. Naturally when you let your guard down something will happen.

Three coyotes snuck up behind Isaac. He didn’t stand a chance on his own. He let out a howl loud and clear. He needed help. Derek and the others left the loft in a heartbeat to help him. They left Erica with Allison and Lydia. No humans on this one. Isaac only saw the flashes of fur as his attackers surrounded him and tore bits and pieces off as they passed. Once he thought he saw the glint of black metal up high in a tree.

Derek and the rest were running but they weren’t fast enough.

Three kills.

Isaac lay in the middle of them panting for breath as his body healed itself. Again he saw a glint of black as his savior ran off toward Beacon Hills. The other werewolves arrived; shocked at what they found. Derek took charge.

“The shooter?”

Isaac just nodded.

“Boyd help Isaac back to the loft. You and Erica help him get cleaned up. Scott you and I are going to find this ghost.”

Boyd got Isaac up off the forest floor and helped him back towards the loft as he was ordered. Derek and Scott circled the spot they’d found Isaac. Derek found the tree with the gunpowder smell. Again. No other scent. Again. Now he was really pissed. He didn’t want to be indebted to someone and especially not to someone he didn’t even know. He took off running towards town after calling Boyd to come back and help Scott patrol after getting Isaac to the loft. Derek was going to see what Stiles had found. He’d had enough time; he should have dozens of theories.

Derek crawled through Stiles window after seeing the sheriff was home in the kitchen. To his surprise Stiles was sitting at his desk, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. Derek huffed as he caught his breath.

“Stiles.”

No response.

Derek leaned in close to his ear using his quietest alpha voice, “STILES.”

Stiles snapped out of it. “You want answers.”

“Hell yes. I’m sick of not knowing who’s protecting my pack.”

“Alright here’s what I know.”

Stiles was back in full swing now. _Geez what the hell was wrong with him_ , Derek wondered.

“You’re looking for a trained person. I’m not talking like Argent trained hunter or even a hunter in general. You’re looking for someone who was once in the military. Special forces. The behavior the shooter has, is exhibited by a person who was trained and practiced being a sniper in active war zones. The sniper acts based on orders. Or he has always picked the orders he chooses to follow. He only acts when no other option is available. You know how he only shoots when you’re about to lose or get seriously hurt and/or killed? That’s him making his decision. He’s waiting for you to succeed. Only when you’re overwhelmed does he offer assistance. He leaves no trail. He leaves no scent. He blends in perfectly with his surroundings. He doesn’t want to kill but he will to protect you and your pack. You’re looking for a sniper with a great amount of control and skill. Also, you probably know him because who else would take such an interest in taking care of your pack alone.”

Derek just stood there in shock. He’d heard Stiles ramble on and say that much at one time. But never in that tone. Never with such certainty. It took him a minute to say anything.

“How long have you known all this?”

“Awhile, you only just asked for my help with it though. I didn’t want to make you look bad to the pack so I waited until you asked me to research it until I actually put my impressions on the subject together to have them make sense.”

“So you did no research whatsoever?”

“Uh, no. No I didn’t.”

“What were you doing when I came in?”

“Oh, uh, decompressing? It had been a long day at school and I was letting my thoughts get away from me.”

“Got it, thanks for the info, and for, you know, waiting to share. I guess.”

Derek couldn’t believe what he was hearing. And he didn’t know anybody who fit that description at all. He didn’t know anybody who’d been in the military, let alone Special Forces.

He left out the window with one question answered, the how, but the even bigger question remained: _who_.

Stiles sighed after Derek climbed back out his window. That was close. He’d only just gotten back to his house and had managed to get his heart rate under control before the angry alpha came charging in. He wasn’t going to be able to keep his secret for very much longer.

Derek returned to the loft to find Scott taking care of Isaac.

“Erica wanted to get out so she went to run patrol with Boyd instead of me.”

“Fine. Say, none of you mentioned it being a rough day at the school. What went on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Stiles said he’d had a hard day.”

“It’s the end of the semester. We watched movies all day in our classes.”

Dereks confusion increased. Why did Stiles lie? More importantly why hadn’t Derek noticed? And if Stiles could lie to Derek like that about something trivial like a bad day, what else was he lying about?

After that first day in the backyard John had put Stiles in the next available gun safety class. They soon moved through all the weapons the sheriff had access to. By the time Stiles was itching to use a sniper rifle, John knew he needed to call his friend to come help teach his son. This little project they had together had helped bring Stiles back outside of his head. He still spent more time than your average kid just sitting and thinking. But at least now he talked. He talked and talked; sometimes John couldn’t get him to stop. Just like it used to be. And the basics of shooting: calming down, breathing steady, concentrating, thinking clearly, helped Stiles learn to control and survive his panic attacks. It didn’t take long before they slowed down and then eventually stopped all together.

John had a friend. Seeley Booth was an FBI agent that had come to work a case in Beacon Hills back when John was still a deputy. But before he was in the FBI he’d been a Army Ranger. That in and of itself would be enough to have him come and teach Stiles, but Booth had been the best sniper the Rangers had. They’d brought him back to teach and after his enlistment expired he remained as a consultant but he wanted to do something different with his life. So instead of taking people’s lives, he caught people who did. John had him come for a couple weeks during the summer and Booth took Stiles out to the woods to teach him everything he knew.

“Ok son, I’ve taught you everything I can so now Booth is going to teach you what he knows. But you are to use these skills to either have fun or help people. If you start using what we’ve taught you against people I will throw you in jail myself. Got it?”

Stiles just shook his head. He had never even thought of shooting a person. He just wanted to keep shooting targets. He never wanted to hurt anyone. That’s why he tried so hard to be perfect. If he never missed he’d never hit the wrong thing.

After spending time with Booth, Stiles had learned it all. He could move through the forest without leaving a trail; and completely blend in with his surroundings. He learned to be accurate from further and further away from the targets they set up. He learned the most effective places to aim for. How to aim for a moving target. Where to shoot to maim, to disable, and to kill. He learned to control his heartbeat beyond just calming panic attacks. Booth taught Stiles to lie while under pressure. He taught him how to make mistakes and how to respond to mistakes. He taught him to shut down and control his emotions until the issue had been resolved.

Booth saw that Stiles’ motive was the control. Not control over life and death but control of what he was doing. Stiles had lost all control in his life when his mom died. But this? Shooting had given him control over one thing and that spread across the rest of his life. He used it as a means to an end. Booth couldn’t see any malice in the teenager, and that allowed him to teach Stiles so much more.

Time passed, every now and again Stiles would take out the sniper rifle his dad had gotten for him for his birthday that year. He’d go out into the forest and see if he could still have the same accuracy as when he shot every day. To his pleasure, Stiles skills never deteriorated.

And then everything changed. His best friend turned into a werewolf and he and Stiles started hanging out with werewolves. He became a part of their pack. He was important to people again. But in the pack he was considered the weak one, the one who needed protecting. Sometimes when he was sick of that feeling he’d take the rifle out to the woods where he knew the wolves wouldn’t be. He’d set up his targets and just sit in a tree and empty a clip. He felt the control again. He didn’t feel helpless.

Then one day he’d been out there way too long. He crawled out of his perch and started collecting his targets. He heard something or things running past him. He quickly climbed the tree he was next to and pulled his spotting scope out to see what was going on.

He saw what looked like four coyotes running for his pack mates. He saw Derek and Isaac get ambushed. He’d never shot something that might be human on the inside. And most of the things that they dealt with now were shape shifters of some sort. Stiles watched the fight from his perch.

He didn’t want people to know what he could do. He’d always hid it. Even from Scott. And now he really didn’t want them to know what he was capable of. Especially Derek. Stiles would not survive being viewed as a threat by Derek.

But as he watched the fight drag on and the coyotes take the upper hand he had to do something. Stiles had normal ammunition with him. He wouldn’t kill any of the supernatural beings in the fight he rationalized to himself. But a shot would be enough of a shock to give Derek and Isaac the upper hand until somebody came to help.

He took a deep breath.

Aimed for the one at Derek’s throat.

Aimed for a second on Isaacs back.

He didn’t stay long enough to see that the coyotes had retreated after that. He was a ghost to get back to his house. He hadn’t run that fast in a long time. But he knew he needed to get out of there before the wolves started to look for whoever had just helped them. He made it back to his house. Stowed the rifle back in the shed; this time with less junk covering it up.

More and more he used his instinct of knowing when fights were going to happen. He wasn’t always right. But most of the time he was. He only ever helped when it was needed and didn’t shoot unless he had to. Then when he heard that Isaac was out alone on patrol he knew something bad was going to happen.

He waited in his perch; focused in on where he knew was Isaac’s favorite spot to sit when he was patrolling. He’d made his own wolfs bane ammo after Derek had almost died from the bullet Kate Argent shot him with. Stiles always brought them with just in case. He wasn’t ready to kill but if it meant protecting the pack he’d do it.

Stiles heard the howl.

He saw them tearing Isaac apart.

The others were too far out.

Derek would never get there in time.

Stiles loaded the lethal ammunition into the rifle.

One. Two. Three.

And breathe.

And fly.

The worry of who was protecting his pack had shifted to the back of Derek’s mind. He had to focus on the pack that was coming to attack them. He had to get his betas ready for the biggest fight they’d had yet. Stiles was sure they weren’t going to bring him with on this fight so he left the training session early.

_I'm going to need more wolfs bane._

The night of the meeting came. Derek knew it was a trap to fight over their territory.

Stiles knew too.

He carried extra ammunition with him into the tree where he set up to wait for the night. The wolves met. Stiles watched through the spotter. It didn’t take long before the fighting started.

All Derek saw was chaos. His pack wasn’t ready for this level of fighting. They were going to lose. Then one enemy dropped to the ground. Then another. Then just as Stiles aimed and shot at a third, Isaac crossed his line of fire.

His friend went down.

Stiles couldn’t breathe.

_He’d shot Isaac._

Their alpha raised her nose in the air and screamed, “You have a human _shooting_ for you!”

This brought Stiles back to focus. They shouldn’t be able to smell him. He grabbed his spotting scope again and saw to his horror they weren’t coming for him.

They were going for Lydia.

_Goddammit Lydia._

Stiles shimmied down the tree, leaving the larger rifle there. He used the smaller assault rifle instead. He took off running not caring about the trail he left this time. There was no hiding it anymore anyway.

He took down the one closest to Lydia’s hiding spot.

“Lydia! Run NOW!” Stiles yelled.

He kept running towards the fight, taking down the other wolf that had been after Lydia. The rest of the rival pack knew they were beaten. They fled being pursued by Boyd and Scott.

Stiles ran towards where Isaac lay.

He just handed Derek another wolfs bane bullet. Not looking him in the eyes.

“Use this. It’s the same kind of wolfs bane as what the bullet I shot Isaac with is made with.”

Stiles looked Derek in the face.

“I’m so very sorry.”

He turned and ran back to his nest; he disappeared back to gather up his other rifle and go back to his house. He was going to tell them eventually but never after having shot one of them. Before he would have been teased for hiding his talents, berated by Derek for keeping a secret and lying.

Now he’d lost his pack. He was just trying to help and he’d shot his friend. Lost in his thoughts he made his way quickly through the forest. In a haze he returned his weapons to their cases and walked in the back door where his dad stopped him.

“Stiles what the hell is wrong?!”

“I’ve been using the sniper rifle to help the pack.

Big fight tonight.

Isaac crossed my line of fire.”

John stood in shock.

“I never wanted to hurt anybody. I-I just wanted to help.”

His voice shook but he didn’t break. He felt like he’d lost so much but he kept it together until he made it to the privacy of his room. He let it out as he showered. Letting the sobs wrack his body. He got out and pulled on his pajamas. His dad came in to check on him; just leaning in through the door.

“When you’re ready to talk about it, I’ll be ready to listen.”

Stiles nodded at his dad.

He felt empty and hollow. He tossed and turned and fell asleep but in his dreams he continued to see himself shoot Isaac, then Scott then Boyd. As he looked into Derek’s glowing red eyes he jerked awake. He wished the nightmare was over, but it wasn’t. He’d still shot his friend. He went to roll over and go back asleep.

“Isaac’s fine you know.”

“I still shot him.” Stiles mumbled into his pillow.

“You also shot the people attacking us. You saved us Stiles.”

Stiles was silent.

“Why didn’t you tell us what you could do?”

“Does it matter anymore? Its not like I’m a part of the pack any more anyway.”

“What are you talking about you idiot. _You. Saved. Us.”_

Stiles still didn’t respond.

“Fine go back to sleep. I can still smell the shock rolling off you.”

Derek would have to try again later.

Nobody was angry with Stiles. Ok maybe Derek was. He’d been lying after all. But nobody in the pack was angry at Stiles for accidentally shooting Isaac. He healed fine especially after Derek put the burnt wolf bane in the wound.

The whole pack showed up at his house the next morning. This time though they opted for the front door instead of his window. As they walked up the front steps the Sheriff came out the door still in his pajamas looking worried.

“I found this. I don’t know when he left. But he’s still not back.”

Derek took the note from John.

_Can’t sleep. Going for a run._

“His rifle, handgun and obstacles are gone too. But wherever Booth taught him they never took me. I don’t even know where to start looking.”

“Give us a few hours before you flood the woods with deputies.”

“Fine just, just call if you find him.”

Derek handed the note back and led his pack around the house into the woods behind.

“Scott did Stiles ever take you somewhere out here growing up? Anyplace he always went back to?”

“No, we just spent time out here. I never knew he knew the woods so well-“

Scott paused.

“What?”  
“This one time, we were out there all day and were really far away. We’d ended up near a lake. I remember it was the clearest water I’d ever seen. And there was this outcropping of rocks we jumped off of. But we never went back. And now that I think about it Stiles got us home from there in a matter of a couple hours even though it had taken us most of the day to get there.”

“I know a couple lakes like that but they are a ways into forest.”

The pack took off running. They had to find Stiles. They didn’t know what he was going to do but they knew it couldn’t be good.

After Derek had left, Stiles didn’t go back to sleep. He wasn’t in control. He needed to find control. He needed to figure out what he was going to do next. How he would live without the pack.

He threw on the clothes that made him impossible to track and downed almost a handful of Adderall. They knew what he could do now and they didn’t need to see what else he was capable of.

He went to the shed and collected what he needed before setting out at a jog. He would go where they wouldn’t find him. It’s not like he’d taken anyone there before. Well, that one time accidentally with Scott but Stiles had just feigned not knowing where they were. He figured Scott had forgotten.

He looked down at his phone when he got to the lake.

_3:00am_

By the time he had everything set up it was 4:00. He started his loop soon after.

Derek had split the pack up to cover more ground to find Stiles. He was headed to the place that matched Scott’s basic description best. Plus it was impossible to get to. If Stiles was really describing himself when he had told Derek what kind of person was the shooter was, Stiles would be capable of getting there.

He still couldn’t believe Stiles had been the one who outsmarted him. Derek ran full speed for half an hour. He slowed down when he knew he was getting close. He still couldn’t smell Stiles, but he did smell the drugs in his system. As he approached the lake he didn’t really know what to expect. But what he found wasn’t a possibility he would have ever considered.

He didn’t recognize Stiles. He barely even heard him. All he could hear was his steady heartbeat and occasionally the sound of his weapon firing. Stiles wore dark jeans, boots, and a deep green jacket Derek had never seen him wear before. Derek watched as the younger man ran, aimed, shot, lowered the weapon and continued to run. He moved in and away from the lake; moving from target to target. Derek watched him circle the lake; making his loop before Derek tried to stop him. After watching Stiles make the loop two more times Derek placed himself in the path Stiles had been using for who knows how long.

But Stiles, even in his state, had seen Derek arrive. He continued his loop until Derek decided it was time to intervene. When Derek stood in his path Stiles adjusted and came up behind him. He wasn’t thinking clearly. All he had was control. No outside thoughts. He was simply focused on: find target, aim, shoot, next target. So Stiles didn’t see Derek in his path so much as he saw a threat, a target. Derek still heard his heartbeat but from behind him instead of coming at him. He turned slowly around to find Stiles’ rifle pointed at his face.

“Threat.”

Derek realized he was still shifted. He noticed now how focused Stiles was. And that he’d clearly been out here for awhile and fallen once or twice. He had mud smeared on his jacket and his boots. Stiles was filthy and possibly injured. Derek changed back to a human.

“Less of a threat.”

“Stiles, its Derek.”

“Derek. Werewolf. Wants to rip my throat out with his teeth.”

“Stiles I don’t want to do that.”

Thought returned to Stiles, it flooded his brain with images causing him to falter.

“Why not? You should, I hurt the pack. Nobody gets away with hurting the pack. But then again. It is my fault.” He lowered the weapon. “Maybe I should let you.”

“Stiles I’m not going to hurt you. It was an accident.”

“I need to keep going.” Stiles was losing his hold.

“When was the last time you stopped?”

Stiles fidgeted where he stood, itching to continue his loop.

“Uh, 8.”

“Stiles its been three hours. Lets stop for just a minute.”

“I can’t. I need to find control. If I stop I lose it. I need to figure this out.”

Stiles rambled but Derek began to understand.

“Figure what out Stiles?”

“How to live without a pack.”

Derek had been creeping closer and closer to the exhausted Stiles. As thoughts continued to flood the poor boy’s mind he lost the last hold he had on his breathing and his panic. His vision blurred. Soon Derek was almost blocked out by the black spots over his eyes. He flicked the safety on before he crumpled to the ground.

Derek caught him after he passed out. “What a kid.”

He checked to make sure he was still breathing before taking out his cell to call the others.

Stiles reeked of Adderall. _How much did you take?_

“Scott –“

“We can’t find him Derek, we’ve looked everywhere.”

“You can’t find him because I already did. You’ll find my scent if you head south. Follow it; I need your help up here.”

Derek laid Stiles on the forest floor. He removed the assault rifle from his grasp and the handgun from the holster on his leg. Then he sat there thinking how he was going to convince Stiles that he needed him to stay. Derek needed him in the pack. It took the others a few minutes to find him and Stiles.

He ordered his betas to collect Stiles' targets and obstacles before taking off back towards Beacon Hills, carrying Stiles. The rest went through the loop and found all his targets. They found extra ammo and yet another gun. After they made sure they had found everything, they carried it off back to the house.

The sheriff was out the door when Derek walked out of the woods with his son.

“Why are you carrying him? Is he hurt? Is he alive?”

“He’s ok Sheriff.”

Derek just carried Stiles into the house and up the stairs into his room. After putting him in his bed Derek took off his muddy boots. Only then did he notice Stiles’ ankle. It was swollen and bruised. Either severely sprained or possibly broken. He went back downstairs to talk to John before the pack got there.

“I found him running. Running what looked like a training exercise? Maybe something that Booth guy taught him? I didn’t jump him I just stood in his path so he would come to me. He came up behind me, viewing me as a threat. I started to talk to him but as soon as the adrenaline stopped pumping through his system he started to lose it. I had just begun to understand what he was doing, why and what he was thinking when he passed out. What I don’t know is if it was a result of exhaustion, panic attack, or Adderall overdose. What I do know is that he thinks he’s losing the pack because he shot Isaac.”

The sheriff made to interrupt but Derek continued.

“That is not going to happen. I keep telling him it was an accident. We are not kicking him out. We- we need him around. And not just because he can shoot a sniper rifle like he does. We need him. He complements the pack. He keeps us together.”

John just stood slightly dumbfounded that the Hale boy was talking so much.

“The rest of them should be coming soon. If its ok with you, we’re going to wait until he wakes up and somehow prove to him that he won’t be losing us.”

“Sounds like you have a plan.”

“I’m working on one yeah.”

“Well, you’re all welcome to stay. Just don’t tear the place apart. And, thank you, for finding my son.”

Derek nods and returns to Stiles room after grabbing an ice pack. He calls Scott to have them come inside the house when they get there. Derek keeps thinking on how he’s going to convince Stiles.

“How long until he wakes up?”

“I don’t know. He still smells like Adderall, he might still be crashed from that.”

Stiles was awake he just hadn’t opened his eyes yet. _Well, at least I know two of them are here to tell me to never speak to them again._

“Stiles, I know you’re awake.”

He opened his eyes and sat up in his bed. He hung his head; waiting to hear those words that had filled his dreams after he passed out in the forest.

_Leave, you worthless liar._

_Never. Talk. To. Us. Again._

“Stiles, when did you first learn to shoot?”

Stiles was confused. W _hy does Derek care? Why doesn’t he just tell me off and leave?_

“My dad started teaching me after my mom died.”

“And it taught you control, right? You used it to get control of your thoughts and life after you lost a part of your family, right?”

“Well, mostly control over my panic attacks—How did you know that?”

“I had the idea after listening to your rambles in the woods. And you thought after you shot Isaac, accidentally, that we would kick you out of the pack. You’d lose your family again.”

“Well that’s what’s going to happen. So why don’t you just get it over with already.”

Stiles looked up when he said this. He saw everyone there, even Lydia and Allison. They all looked at him with a mixture of compassion and pity. God he hated pity why didn’t they just leave him to his misery. Derek seemed to be hearing his thoughts because he sat down on the bed right in front of Stiles and they all moved in to be closer to him.

“Look at our faces Stiles. Does it look like we want to get rid of you? We are not kicking you out of the pack. We do not want you to leave. In fact, I’m sure everyone in this room would agree that we need you Stiles.”

Isaac spoke first, “I am not mad at you for shooting me, you saved me right after and you were aiming for the person I was fighting, not me. I do not hate you Stiles.”

Scott piped up next, “Dude, you’re my best friend, I don’t want you to leave.”

Lydia added, “Who else makes sense of all the random information I come up with. I just know the facts, you’re the one that ties them all together to make them make sense.”

“And now I need you to be around to teach me what I’m missing out on because clearly I have more to learn.” Allison offered.

Erica threw in that she needed him because he was her cuddle buddy. Boyd pointed out the fact that Stiles is always there to help him with his homework and is the best cook out of all of them and keeps them all fed.

Derek could see the slow recognition register on Stiles face. They were getting through.

“We need you Stiles. Not just to be our sniper or our cook or the guy who figures it all out. Those are nice things don’t get me wrong. And we do want you around for those things. But we need you to be around because you keep everybody together. You’re the center piece that holds the pack together. You take care of my pack in ways I didn’t know I needed to.”

Stiles took a deep breath. This wasn’t how he expected this to go.

“Guess I maybe overreacted a little.”

The whole room breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re forgiven, for all of it.”

The alpha’s tone meant this meeting was over. It was late into the evening so they all headed home. Scott grabbed another ice pack for Stiles ankle before he left for the night as well. Derek didn’t move off of Stiles bed. He waited for Scott to leave before he spoke again.

“I’m only going to ask you once. Don’t do that again.”

“Do what?” Stiles really didn’t know which ‘that’ Derek was referring to. Don’t use his weapons again? Don’t go into the forest in the middle of the night? Don’t be untrackable?

“Don’t take that much Adderall again.”

“Oh. Yeah, I-“

He couldn’t come up with any good excuse for why he’d done it in the first place.

“I won’t.”

“I don’t want to have to track you using that smell again.”

Stiles even chuckled at that.

“K, I won’t do it again, promise.”

“Good.”

Derek got off the bed.

“I was gonna look at your ankle before I leave.”

Stiles shifted his leg so Derek could see the injured ankle.

“Its definitely broken. Count of three I’m gonna set it ok? So find something to bite down on.”

Stiles grabbed, ironically, a bullet from his nightstand.

“Ready.”

“Ok on three. One. Two.” Crunch. “Three.”

“Oh my GOD.”

Derek smirked. He put his hands on Stiles ankle again this time to take some pain. Then he grabbed a wrap from his lacrosse bag to wrap up the ankle.

“You keep doing that.”

“I don’t like anybody in my pack to be hurting.”

“You really mean that don’t you.”

Derek hesitated.

“Yeah I really do.”

Stiles got up to change out of his muddy clothes after Derek had finished.

“Geez its cold in here.”

He crawled into his bed but Derek didn’t leave. He crawled onto the bed just lying down next to Stiles.

“What are you doing?”

“You said you were cold.”

Stiles just looked at him.

“You wouldn’t have been out there all night if I’d had someone here watching out for you. This is me taking care of my Stiles- pack. My pack.”

Stiles smiled. He wasn’t complaining, he was tired and Derek was really warm.

“Stiles remember the day I came to ask you to do the research?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“What happened that fight? You left a trail for the first time.”

Stiles blushed a little. “I sprained my ankle crawling out of the tree.”

“You saved my life that night.”  
“Yeah, I lost control of the adrenaline after that shot. I ended up falling out of the tree when I tried to climb down.”

Derek tried to stifle the laugh that was bubbling to the surface. He managed to just smile.

“Hey Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for uh-”

“You’re welcome, Stiles. Just promise one more thing?”

“Hmm?” Stiles was already falling asleep in Derek’s warmth.

“No more secrets?”

“I’ll try.”

Stiles was asleep moments later. Derek stayed there all night. Just in case Stiles thought he’d been dreaming again he was going to be there when he woke up to make sure he knew: Stiles was pack.

That wasn’t going to change.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is like the second thing I've written so any feedback would be cool. Just let me know if I should stop trying to write now. 
> 
> Also, I borrowed Seeley Booth from the Fox show BONES. He's just my favorite.
> 
> Also, I don't know how we got to that ending. It all started with Stiles being a sniper and went from there.


End file.
